I went to Catholic school from Kindergarten to Twelfth Grade.
I often say that I don’t think it warped me, although wearing a plaid jumper for about thirteen years did dent my personal sense of style.
However, there is the Catholic Guilt thing.
The bizarre dream I had last night is the perfect example:
I dreamed that my best friend Steve, who died on May 14, 2010 wasn’t really dead. He just wanted to take a break from everyone. When he decided to come back, he was pretty upset that his house had been sold and that all of his worldly goods had been distributed to people far and wide. (That’s not a fat joke.)
Now in the dream and in fact I know that he is gone. In the dream, I showed him the death certificate and the cremation certificate. Still, I felt guilty that I personally didn’t verify that he was gone.
I wonder if this is guilt that I wasn’t actually in the room when he died. I had gone to lie down and seconds after I turned off the light, he died.
I also wonder if this is guilt that I was so sick (fever, nausea, stomach issues) yesterday that I stayed in bed all day.
That’s what I mean about the guilt thing.
I also accidentally shoplifted a bottle of lite Hershey’s syrup from Target and it drove me insane for an entire weekend until I took it back and paid for it.
(I realize that I should also feel guilty for buying Lite syrup to begin with, but still)
The bottle had fallen between the seat of the cart and the cart itself. I thought it had fallen out of the bag, so I just put it back and went home. This bothered me the whole drive home so when I got back, I went through the receipt, sure enough, I hadn’t paid for it.
I couldn’t use the syrup until I had taken it back. My ultra conservative, very Catholic mother told me to quit beating myself up for it and that it would probably be ok, and if I felt that bad then maybe I should make a donation to charity.
I just couldn’t do it.
I have a weird life.